Snap
by Topsy
Summary: Post-“Rage” fic. Takes place right where “Rage” left off.


Title: Snap  
Author: Topsy  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Post-"Rage" fic. Takes place right where "Rage" left off.  
Author's Notes: I'm doing the predictable thing and I'm writing an after "Rage" fic. I wanted to start writing it before everyone else did and I completely just copied everyone else's ideas. So if you've written anything similar, I apologize.   
Disclaimer: Dick Wolf is the man. He gets all the credit. I just use and abuse them sometimes. 

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March 2, 2005 

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Elliot leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and burying his face his palms. His knuckles were on fire, but he didn't even care. His breath heaved out loudly in the quiet room and part of him felt like getting back up and pounding into the lockers all over again. He hated the similarities he felt to a psycho who murdered little girls. He hated that he understood the rage. Days like today made him really hate his job. 

"Elliot?" 

Elliot sucked in a deep breath when he heard Olivia calling his name out behind him. 

"Liv, it's okay," he said and straightened, but he didn't turn to look at her. 

"What's going on? I heard noises." Olivia's heart still pounded from the noises she had heard. She had rushed upstairs when it sounded like someone, or something, was getting their ass kicked. 

Elliot sighed gruffly and ran his left palm over his face. He heard her audibly gasp behind him. 

"What did you do?" she asked, immediately coming to his side and talking his hands into hers as she sat down on the bench next to him. Her heart tripped in her chest when she saw him in pain like this. 

He winced when he finally let himself concentrate on the pain. 

"Jesus, El," she paused and looked over at him with concern written all over her face. 

"I fucking hate this job," he nearly growled out. 

Olivia saw the torment in his eyes and she didn't know what to do. She just wanted to wipe it away, make him better. Make him realize he wasn't anything like that bastard Rickett. 

Elliot stared at her with tears in his eyes and she swallowed hard. Lately he had been so emotional and most of the time she didn't know what to do with it. It scared her, seeing this strong man fall apart like this; seeing her best friend fall apart like this. 

Olivia swung her leg over the bench so she was straddling it and did the only thing she could think of. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and let him lean into her. She felt his breath hitch before his arms slid tightly around her and he buried his face into her shoulder. 

Olivia ran her hand over his back slowly and cradled him close. She didn't think he was crying exactly, but his chest was heaving with deep breaths as if he was desperately fighting it. She knew this was weird for them. They never touched like this. Olivia knew that if she were a guy, if she were Munch or Fin, this would never be happening. And they had usually been able to keep things that way. 

But her best friend needed her and she couldn't just sit here and watch him go to pieces. 

"I'm sorry," she heard him mutter against her shoulder and she shook her head. "I just" He sighed gruffly into her shirt, but didn't lift his head. "He got to me." 

"I know," Olivia soothed. She paused. "Elliot, you're nothing like him. He kills little girls and you're the one fighting for those girls. What you did today You tried so hard to get him to confess and he didn't, but you pissed him off enough that he made a move on another victim and we caught him. He let his rage get out of control and he took it out on a little girl. You took it out on some lockers. That's a big difference." 

"I wanted to kill him," Elliot whispered gruffly. "I had that gun in my hand and I just I know that's what he wanted me to do, but I wanted to take his life. And that That makes me like him." 

Olivia paused, gathering her thoughts. She wanted to find the right words to take his pain away. "Your anger comes from seeing the sick things that people like him do. His rage comes from a sickness that he has inside of him. Yours is for the people that get hurt. Your aggression is aimed at the right people and he picks out innocent children. Just because you have that inside you, doesn't make you like him, El." She paused. "Sometimes I feel the same way. Like there's something inside of me waiting to snap. That makes me the same as him, too, if that's what you're saying." 

Elliot lifted his head, ready to argue with her. Ready to tell her she was wrong. 

She smiled sadly at him and spoke before he could. "See, you're so ready to tell me that Rickett and I aren't the same. And that's the exact same thing I'm telling you and you won't believe it." 

"You never believe me when I tell you that you're wrong," Elliot said quietly. 

Olivia lifted her eyebrows for a second before she lowered her head, looking down between them. After a moment, she looked back up and met his gaze again. "I know." She let out a soft little sigh. "Why do we do this to ourselves, Elliot?" 

Elliot stared at her, but didn't answer. He didn't have the answers, though he desperately wished he did have them so he could sooth her internal wounds. 

"Why do we think that we have to carry around all this guilt, too, along with doing our jobs?" 

"I don't know, Liv," he muttered. He paused. "He threatened my kids." 

Olivia watched him as he stared downward, his mind going back to the interrogation room. 

"I just God," Elliot lifted his head and she could see the anger back in his eyes. "When they do that, when these mother fuckers do that to me, threaten my children, my family, it just freezes me up inside for a moment. And I automatically wonder, are they safe right now? Could this bastard have gotten to them already? And it just Brings me to my knees, Olivia. They are my weakness." He let out a frustrated sound and she could see tears forming in his sad blue eyes again. Her heart ached for him. "And this job, I just With the separation and everything, I've thrown myself into work, but it just makes it worse, almost. It makes me think about everything I've lost and everything I could lose and" Elliot bit down on his bottom lip hard. Olivia was surprised that he didn't draw blood. "When Rickett started talking about my daughters, I just I wanted to kill him." Elliot lifted his hands to his face and dug his palms into his eyes. 

Olivia stared at him before she reached up and wrapped her fingers around his wrists. She lowered his hands and looked at him, staring into his tear-filled eyes. "You are nothing like him," she whispered fiercely and held his gaze. 

Elliot closed his eyes and surprised her by leaning his forehead against hers. 

"I wish I believed you," he whispered quietly. 

Olivia's heart hurt for him. She just wanted to know why such a good man should be put through such torture; in his personal life and now his work life, and she wanted to kiss his wounds and make them better. "I wish you believed me, too," she murmured. 

Elliot opened his eyes and stared into the dark depths of hers. He could see her honesty and all of her concern for him written in her eyes. He could see her need to fix him. He recognized the feeling so well because he had it for her so often. 

Something inside of him trembled; some emotion he didn't realize he had. Elliot lifted his right hand to her face and cupped her cheek in his hand gently. She stared at him and he could see the slight surprise in her eyes, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He watched the awareness creep onto her face as she stared at him and he could tell she had stopped breathing as his mouth lowered toward hers slowly. His lips touched hers so softly that she could barely feel it and he hesitated for just a second. 

She took that second to shift her chin up slightly, deepening the kiss and effectively letting him know that she was okay with it. This was her chance to kiss his wounds, kiss away his aches and pains and bruises. He sighed softly against her and caressed her lips gently with his, but he didn't take the kiss any further. Elliot rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone before pulling back. He watched her eyelids flutter open lazily and he had to swallow the urge to lower his head to her again and drag her into something more, something hotter, but he knew he couldn't, because he could never use her like that, just because he was hurting. And then the guilt for just that one small kiss hit him hard in the gut. 

Olivia watched it float into his eyes and tried to stop him before he could say anything. 

"Liv, I am so sorry, I just have all these emotions twisted up inside of me and I" 

Olivia pressed her fingers to his lips and stared at him. She shook her head slightly and then smiled. "It's okay," she murmured and lowered her hand. 

"No, it's not, I" 

"El, shut up," Olivia said. He closed his mouth and she chuckled. "I promise it's okay." 

"Wait, Liv, I don't I don't want you to think that I just did that because" 

"Elliot, you don't have to" She nearly squirmed, growing uncomfortable. Everything would be better if he'd just forget it ever happened and chalk it up to those jumbled emotions. She could handle that, but she couldn't handle his apologies or excuses. 

"No, just listen." He paused. "I didn't do that to take advantage of you. I wouldn't use you. I Maybe that Maybe that means something, what I just did, but right now, I don't have the ability to work through it." He paused and blew out a breath of air. Then he reached up and cupped her cheek again. "I wanted to, so I did, and I'll figure out what it means later." 

Olivia wrapped her fingers around his wrist and smiled slightly. "Elliot, you're such a Catholic." 

The corners of his lips tilted up in a small smile and he was relieved that she was lightening the mood some and not making him work to recover from that kiss. "You're right." He paused. "Don't forget that I'm going to think about it, though," he murmured quietly. 

Her eyes grew serious for a moment. "I don't think I could," she whispered softly. "El, I'm going to go get the first aid kit, okay? Do you think you broke any fingers?" She pulled on his hands and lifted them toward her face to inspect the drying blood. 

"Naw," Elliot said. "It burns, but not like a broken bone." 

"Good. Let me go get the kit and I'll fix you up." She paused. "Then we're going to go get something to eat, okay?" She lifted her eyebrow at him. "And don't argue with me this time. I can't let you beat the shit out of anymore innocent lockers." She smirked at him. 

He smiled at her. "Okay." He paused. "On one condition." 

"What?" she asked, becoming serious again. 

He smirked at her this time. "You're buying." He grinned at her when she laughed and stood up to go in search of the first aid kit. 

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(Finished.) 


End file.
